


Euphoric

by Wywrd_Artemis



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A lot of Hurt, Angst, Blood Vines, Brainwashing, Dream Smp, Eggpire, Gaslighting, Goodbyes, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Mind Control, Mostly hurt, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not beta read we die like roberto, Panic Attacks, Rejection, Skephalo, Skeppy Gets Bullied By An Egg, Sort Of, difficulty breathing, red skeppy, skeppy come back challenge 2020, tfw a brainwashing egg steals ur bf, the egg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28111665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wywrd_Artemis/pseuds/Wywrd_Artemis
Summary: Desire is a burden. Skeppy has the opportunity to give up that burden. But some heartaches are difficult to let go of.
Relationships: Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch, skephalo - Relationship
Comments: 48
Kudos: 309
Collections: Wywrd's Skephalo Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> every day, bbh and skeppy steal my brain cells....
> 
> i wrote this late at night bcz i couldn't sleep so if it doesn't make sense, blame my sleepiness

Skeppy had given up on breaking out. Maybe it the pain in his arms from hours of pounding against obsidian, or maybe it was the influence of this strange red egg, draining his motivation to escape. It was hard to think clearly, trapped in such close quarters with the egg. Actually, it was hard to think at all—he was exhausted, his head throbbed, and he couldn’t look away from the egg.

_If it hurts so much to think, wouldn’t it be easier to let someone else do it for you?_

Skeppy slumped against the obsidian wall, staring at the massive egg only inches from him. It was strangely beautiful, the smooth shell as bright and reflective as a ruby, with faint living spirals reminiscent of nether portals. The bed of red vines that had sprouted around its base seemed to weave together in an almost lace-like pattern. Tiny delicate flowers grew on the vines, smelling faintly of cinnamon and sulphur. Skeppy felt the unease in his chest dull, feeling oddly comforted by the strange smell.

_Isn’t it so much easier to just rest?_

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been trapped in there with the egg. Maybe hours? It only felt like seconds. Time melted when he stared at the shining red surface, reflecting his own face. It was eerily mesmerizing, but just another reminder that he was in here alone. Living in a house with Bad, Skeppy had grown unfamiliar with silence, with loneliness. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be alone.

_It isn’t the loneliness that hurts. It’s the desire to end it._

Skeppy crossed his legs, propping his chin up on his hand. He found himself glancing around less and less, fixated on the egg, watching the dance of subtle patterns on its shell. It almost made him feel sleepy, but his eyelids never drooped, staying patiently wide open.

_The desire to leave is burdening you. Give it to me._

  
Skeppy jolted upright. Was his mind was talking to itself? He hadn’t alone long enough to go nuts, had he? No, that couldn’t be it, he wasn’t alone in here. His heart began beating faster, his eyes now locked on his own crimson reflection, hands shaking slightly.

_You desire so much. It is a burden unto you. Do you not wish to lighten your burden?_

Although the thoughts were in his own head, in his own voice, Skeppy could _feel_ them coming from the egg, drawing him closer. He opened his mouth to speak, but any jokes or comments he could think of seemed to wither in his throat. He felt so tired, so stressed. It was like a weight on his shoulders, slowly dragging him down with every step, wearing him through. Desire was... a burden?

_You are unhappy. What desires burden you? What do you seek?_

Skeppy swallowed, scratching the back of his neck. His eyes felt dry. Had he been blinking? Blinking meant looking away. Maybe he shouldn’t blink. Maybe he should step closer. “Uhhhh. I like... diamonds?”

And then, his red reflection shifted, and in it he saw himself surrounded by glimmering gems, sitting on a throne of diamonds, completely and utterly unhappy.

_They are worthless._

Skeppy felt something inside his slip. It was like a leaf falling from a tree, something inside him gently leaving his grasp, a weight leaving him. He felt lighter than before. Like something was missing, yes, but it was _light_.

Without thinking, he spoke again, unable to hold the words in, desperate to feel again that easing of the weight. “I like the house I built with Bad.”

The reflection shifted again, this time showing the countless blocks that had been used in their house, being repurposed into countless things both useful and useless, beautiful and poorly made. It was only a coincidence these particular blocks had become walls and rooms. They could so easily have been anything else, and one day, they would fall to ruin as all structures did under the merciless eye of time.

_It is inconsequential._

And god, he didn’t mean to, but Skeppy kept talking, speaking of all the things he liked, all the things that brought him happiness, relishing the weightlessness that came with each absence. Each thing he spoke of was another leaf fallen from the tree, not forgotten but past any point of value. If someone had asked him why it felt so rewarding, he wouldn’t have been able to come up with any other answer than blissful apathy. It wasn’t a satisfying answer. But he didn’t think about it.

Each desire was a burden. Each piece the egg took of him was a weight lifted. How incredible, how wonderful, how good and right. How could he be anxious, sealed in here, when nothing he desired waited outside?

_There is something you still desire._

Skeppy blinked, staring into his own reflection, the seeds of worry inside him once again fighting to survive. He wracked his brain for anything else he wanted, anything else that had trapped him in desire. The thought was there, just out of reach. Maybe it was because he didn’t dare admit it, even to himself. Maybe it was because deep down he knew how wrong this all was, and was desperately trying to keep this one last piece of himself, trying to hold the shard of his very self together.

_This desire is the heaviest of all. Surrender it, and free yourself into our joy. Give this up and you will no longer be hurting._

“Please,” Skeppy whisper, as desperate as a prayer.

_Are you begging for this burden to be lifted? Or do you beg for this pain to continue?_

Skeppy’s breath hitched, his heartbeat pounding so hard it made his head spin, barely able to keep upright. He wanted it to take all of his desires, to unburden him with these weights, to end the pain he hadn’t realized he was suffering.

But he didn’t want it to take _this_.

His reflection shifted again, taking on a new form. Skeppy’s eyes widened at the sight of a face he knew better than his own. Soft sweet features, an annoyed but affectionate smile, those gentle eyes so full of warmth and fondness. He staggered closer to the egg, gently touching the warped reflection as though cupping its cheek. The reflection in the form of Badboyhalo closed his eyes, tilting his head as though leaning into Skeppy’s touch.

Skeppy stepped closer to the egg, closer to the reflection, the desperation inside him reawakening with a fervor. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to be in here, because Bad wasn’t here. He wanted to get out, he wanted to find Bad, he wanted to hold his friend close and know he was still real.

It would have been less painful to be burned alive.

_“Skeppy,”_ the Badboyhalo in the reflection said, eyes fluttering open, smiling softly. _“You’re being such a muffinhead. I’m starting to think you want something from me.”_

“I do,” Skeppy said weakly. He lifted his other hand to reach out, and suddenly Bad seemed like so much more than a reflection. He could’ve sworn he felt the warmth of Bad’s cheek against his hand. He brushed a stray hair out of Bad’s face, his hands shaking, his heart pounding so hard he wondered if he was going to die in here.

Bad giggled, raising a hand to place over Skeppy’s, holding them together. The reflection stepped closer, _so_ close it felt almost intimate, and Skeppy’s mouth went dry. _“Well then just tell me! You’re my best friend. I’ll give you whatever you want,”_ Bad said, lightly pressing his forehead against Skeppy's. He tried to crack a joke about personal space, but words failed him.

Skeppy could only stare, overwhelmed with the confrontation of how beautiful Bad really was. His eyes shone with a sincere warmth. The red light made his hair practically shimmer. His lips had the soft curve of a bow, pulled into that sweet resting smile he seemed to carry every single day. Skeppy’s thumb trace down Bad’s cheek, coming to rest on his bottom lip, gently thumbing the soft curve. “I want...” Skeppy’s word’s faltered, spoken as quietly as an admission of guilt. “I want you.”

They were stood so closely, Skeppy could see the moment Bad’s eyes shifted. The fondness there wavered, overcast in shadow, darkened with something that could only be displeasure. _“Oh,”_ Bad said, his hand falling to his side, stepping back from Skeppy’s touch. _“You aren’t joking.”_

Skeppy tried to speak, tried to apologize or pretend it was a joke, but he found himself gasping for air. He could barely breath, let alone speak. He could feel hot tears spilling down his cheeks. All he could do was choke.

Bad crossed his arms, turning away slightly. _“Sorry, that’s just, really weird. I mean, did you really think I could like you like that? I just... I wish you hadn’t said anything.”_ He looked away, not meeting Skeppy’s eyes. That ever present warmth seemed to be draining from the very air itself, guilt and anguish boiling in Skeppy’s heart. _“Listen, I don’t know if I’m comfortable hanging out anymore. Knowing you feel that way... it makes things weird. I’m sorry, Skeppy.”_

And Skeppy could breathe long enough for a pained sob to escape him, dropping to his knees, his whole body shaking. Why was he seeing this? Why, why did he have to see this?

_Do you really believe he wants you the way you want him? This desire is killing you slowly. It will never be fulfilled. It will only swell and grow until it crushes you and those you keep close. It is a burden. It is a burden you will force onto him if you continue to carry it._

“Please,” Skeppy begged. His heart wouldn’t stop beating, like a hammer pounding against his skull. “Please, it hurts, please.”

_Your obstinance has brought this upon yourself._

“Please,” he said, his vision blurring. He was dying. He was going to die in here, all alone, with Bad’s disappointment being that last thing he ever saw. “Please,” he said, his voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Please, take it away. Take it.”

_You need no desires,_ it spoke, like a parent comforting a crying child. _I have made you whole._

Skeppy felt the last tears fall from his cheeks, his panicked heart rate beginning to settle. No more fear. No more hurt. He lifted his head, and saw no reflection in the surface of the egg. No warped desires. Not his own face. Only the glistening surface.

When he lifted his hand to wipe away the drying tears, a glimmer of red caught his eye. There were small bloodvines tangled across his palms, almost half-embedded in his skin. They shimmered in the low light. He touched them, and they seemed to tighten against his flesh. Like an embrace.

~~_Like shackles._ ~~

Why had he been so stubborn, holding on to such a miserable little desire? Skeppy smiled, but it felt stiff, unpracticed, so he let his expression fall again. He felt so much lighter now. With all of his tethers cut, he didn’t hurt anymore.

He had no desires.

He was... _euphoric_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saying goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so what if i wrote a part two? just kidding! haha, unless...?

It took such courage to only knock. Bad stood outside the door of Skeppy’s room in the new underground “house”, his hands shaking violently as he forced himself to take deep breaths. _‘No more crying,’_ he reminded himself sternly, biting his lip. _'You’ll just scare him away.’_ Besides, he’d probably done enough crying for a lifetime anyway. He tried to gather his courage, but it weighed leaden and unmoving in his chest. Never before had Bad felt scared of coming face-to-face with his best friend.

  
(Or what was left of him.)

  
Still, Bad couldn’t keep avoiding this. He had to confront what had happened, and he still couldn’t talk bring himself to talk to Puffy about it. He forced himself to lift his hand, knocking softly on the door. As he cleared his throat, he swallowed the sob that lay curled in his lungs, doing his best to keep his composure. “Skeppy? It’s your.... it’s Badboyhalo. Can I come in?”

  
There was an uncomfortably long pause, followed by voice he’s gotten so used to hearing. “You can do whatever you like.” It wasn’t a no, and even if it wasn’t quite a yes, Bad took it as permission granted and opened the door.

  
It was hard, looking at Skeppy. Not because he looked different or frightening, but because he looked so unchanged, so... Skeppy. He was the same as he’d always been, save for the red color that stained his skin and the delicate bloodvines that curled through his hair. He was less expressive since the incident. Seeing Skeppy without his goofy eager smile just didn’t feel right. Nonetheless, Bad couldn’t bring himself to look away, knowing this was all of Skeppy he had left.

  
“Hi,” he said softly, trying to choose his words.

  
“Hello,” Skeppy responded, his tone flat and disinterested.

  
It all felt so wrong. Bad took a shaky deep breath in, guilt and sadness and feelings he didn’t know how to name filling his lungs, swirling and scraping like a throat full of dust. “I’m sorry if this is a bad time. I was just... I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and I was wondering if I could ask for a favor? It’s a little silly, and you don’t have to if you don’t want to! I just... I thought I’d ask,” he said, blinking back tears.

  
Skeppy didn’t reply immediately, waiting for an uncomfortably long moment before speaking. “I cannot except a favor when I don’t know what you’re asking for,” he pointed out, tilting his head to the side.

  
Bad’s felt briefly lightheaded as the blood rushed to his face. “Right... sorry,” he said sheepishly, bowing his head. “So, Puffy’s been saying that you might stay like this forever. And I really... I really really don’t want it to be true,” he stammered out, clasping his hands together. “But it’s getting hard to keep thinking that. And... if the Skeppy I know isn’t coming back—“ he sniffled, taking a shaky deep breath “—if he’s really gone, I didn’t get to say goodbye. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the stuff I should’ve said and didn’t and... I was hoping, I could say them to you. Even if this is who you are forever, I thought, maybe if I could just pretend for a minute, I could...”

  
Bad choked up, unable to keep tears from welling up in his eyes. The words felt like cobwebs in his throat, as if saying any of this aloud would make it true, as if it weren’t already blatantly clear. “I thought I could say goodbye.”

  
Skeppy’s face was painfully unreadable. He’d always been an open book, at least to Bad, but now trying to look into him was like staring into a bank of fog. “I have no objections,” Skeppy said. “Do whatever you like.” The nonplussed response, the empty expression, the distance in his words—it was all wrong, all so different. As intimate as a conversation with a stranger.

  
Bad took a seat, fighting back the dread weighing in his mind. He’d been so hesitant to do this, because in a way, it felt like admitting that his Skeppy was gone for good. He wanted to, _had_ to believe it was possible to fix this.

  
But if it wasn’t, he’d spend the rest of his life regretting the thing’s he’d been too afraid to say.

  
“You’re my best friend, Skeppy,” Bad said softly. He closed his eyes, pretending they were back at their shared house, pretending the Skeppy he was talking to was the same one he’d always known. “I know I say lots how you’re annoying. And you are, but, its a good annoying. You make every day fun and exciting.” He sniffled, unable to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. “You’re so nice to me. I love when we play games and explore or even just sit at home and talk. I love when you laugh at my jokes or show me cool stuff you found. I even love your crazy trolls. I know I pretend like I don’t but it kind of makes me happy that you’d go through so much effort for me—even if it’s to drive me crazy,” he added, laughing weakly. The tears in his eyes were threatening to spill over now.

  
“I never thought it would end, you know? I guess it’s kind of silly. I know nothing lasts forever, but spending time with you, it... it felt like maybe it could. Like every morning I’d wake up and you’d be there for the rest of my life. I never really thought about how I was going to say goodbye to you because I didn’t think I’d ever have to.

  
“I don’t know how to live without you, Skeppy. I know I did, somehow, before we met, but I can’t remember how and I don’t know if I want to. I just want you here, telling me I’m just being a dumb potato and that everything’s okay.”

  
Bad bit his lip, the hot tears spilling down over his cheeks, as words tumbled freely from his mouth. “Puffy says it isn’t my fault. And I know she’d right, I know it’s not, but it still /feels/ like it is. It feels like, maybe if I got you out sooner, or if I was strong enough not to ever get hypnotized by the egg, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I could’ve been in there instead, and you would’ve been _okay_. It feels like I should have done something else, something more. But I didn’t.”

  
Bad managed to stumble to his feet, not trusting himself to look Skeppy in the eyes. He tried to wipe away the tears with the sleeve of his hoodie, but his strength had cracked, and they just kept falling.

  
He wanted so badly to hold Skeppy. They’d always been clingy friends, taking any chance to hold hands or hug or cuddle up together. More than anything, Bad wanted that now. He wanted to hold Skeppy close, to interlock their fingers tightly, to feel the familiar comfort of Skeppy’s arms wrapped around him. He wanted to bury his face in Skeppy’s shoulder and hide from the world, protected by the familiar, soft, flinty smell of Skeppy’s shirt. He wanted to hold Skeppy so tightly he’d never be lost again. Bad stole a glance at Skeppy. As if he could read Bad’s mind and didn’t care for what he saw, Skeppy took a step back.

  
Bad felt his heart crack.

  
He swallowed the lump in his throat, desperately trying to collect the rest of his thoughts. All he wanted was to run home, climb in bed, and bury his head beneath the blankets and cry. But what was the point? It wasn’t home if he didn’t share it with Skeppy.

  
“I-I’m almost finished,” he said, wiping at his eyes. “S-sorry if this is making you uncomfortable. Should I stop?”

  
“I do not desire you to stop,” Skeppy said. “I do not desire anything.”

  
Bad nodded weakly, closing his eyes again, trying to recapture the image in his mind. Skeppy’s mischievous smile, his brilliant eyes, the way his voice always carried so much emotion and energy and life. The image helped ease his racing heart, offering a bittersweet comfort in its memory. He took a deep breath. “If there’s no going back... I wish we’d had more time. Or that I appreciated it more. Mostly I wish none of this happened, and you were still here. I feel lonely all the time now, even when I’m with people, because in the back of my mind all I can think of is you,” he said, his voice breaking.

A small sob escaped his lips. Then, he laughed. He laughed at how futile it was to keep in the tears, he laughed at how he could only admit these things too late, he laughed at how utterly useless he felt without his friend. The laughing broke into sobs, and Bad fell to his knees.

  
The floodgates opened, Bad wept. He sobbed, tears puddling on the floor around him, his throat turning sore as his voice broke. He could barely hold himself up, his arms shaking, all his energy draining out as he cried.

  
“I n-never,” he cut himself out, a pained sob escaping him. _God_ , it felt as though someone had dug their claws deep into his heart and was all too slowly tearing it apart. “I n-never wanted to say too much, or be too clingy,” he sobbed, barely managing to speak. “I didn’t want... I didn’t want to scare you away.” Even now, he had not come with the intent of telling the whole truth, but grief had washed away all of Bad’s walls, leaving him with nothing but heartache.

  
“I loved you. I loved you so much, and I was so scared to say it. I was never _going_ to say it. Why do I wish I did?” He said, grabbing his head, his vision a swirl of light and colors refracted by his tears. “I still love you. Even if you’re gone, even if its over, I... I don’t think I could ever stop loving you.”

  
Love wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. Love wasn’t supposed to leave you broken and hollow.

  
He could feel the cracks in his heart splintering, the weight quickly becoming too much. He felt as fragile as a bubble, like the slightest shift in the air could completely unravel him. Through teary eyes, he lifted his head, some small naive part of him praying the confession would be enough to bring Skeppy back.

  
Bad would have preferred anger. He would have preferred to see Skeppy snap at him, to say his feelings were disgusting or wrong, to say he was going to leave Bad and never come back. It would hurt, but it would be _something_ , it would be any sign that there was anyone still in there other than a hollow shell.

  
The eyes he met were blank. Dispassionate. Almost bored. “Do you have anything else to say?”

  
And that was enough to shatter his splintered heart.

  
Bad whimpered, weakly dragging himself to his feet, wrapping his arms around himself. He tried to speak, but he found his voice had left him, his throat torn from sobbing. Instead, he shook his head, staring at the floor through burry eyes. After a moment of uncomfortable, painful silence, he turned and left. Skeppy didn’t stop him.

  
_So fragile. So full of desperation, of desire. You see the pain it brings? How lucky you are to be free of such burdens. You are safe. You are free. You should be euphoric._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i might write more if i get inspo (and also bcz i secretly prefer happy endings) but for now thats what we got! thank you all for reading ouo!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you sacrifice one person to save the world? Or sacrifice the world to save one person?

Every night, he dreamed of the Egg.

Bad knew he should tell the others. Ant, Sam, Puffy, _anyone_. It could mean the bloodvines was spreading again, or that some deeper part of his mind was still infected. Even if it was only nightmares brought on by stress and fear, his friends would still want to know; to be there for him, to support him, to tell him it would all be okay.

But no matter how hard he tried, how much he convinced himself it had to be done, Bad could never bring himself to tell them. Although the dreams were unsettling and unwelcome, they were the only times he felt whole anymore. The only times he felt complete. The only times he felt real.

He hadn’t felt like that since losing Skeppy.

As Bad opened his eyes, he immediately recognized the scene that had been haunting his sleep. He stood at the bottom of a vast charred crater, writhing with living bloodvines, each massive tendril as wide as a bus. The stone was carpeted with a thick viscous rot. Stark white fragments of bone jutted up from the decay like broken teeth, picked clean of flesh. The air was hot and humid, heavy with the stench of decay. There was no sign of life other than the bloodvines and the flowers that bloomed on them.

The voice of the Crimson rippled through the wastes, speaking in its strange incomprehensible language. He could distinguish the words, although they were much less clear than when he’d been under the egg’s control.

_‘Do not resist,’_ it whispered, gentle, but not kind. _‘Come back to us. Release the seal.’_

Bad winced, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. “Get out of my dreams you... big red potato,” he said, biting his lip. “You have to take things away from me when I’m sleeping too?”

_‘You fascinate us little demon,’_ it said, its voice like a chorus of unseen spirits haunting an unmarked grave. _‘Conflicting desires. Powerful desires. You seek chaos and war. You seek peace and life. Strange. Strong. Useful.’_

Bad swallowed a lump in his throat, uneasiness rising in his chest. It had never spoken so directly in his other dreams—it was supposed to be nothing but empty invitations to fall back under its thrall. It never actually _talked_ to him, not so directly. “Yeah well... tough muffins, you’ve hurt my friends and you hurt Skeppy, so maybe I don’t want to be useful to you,” he said, curling his hands into fists, scowling at the luminescent red shell.

_‘There is a hunger in you,’_ it whispered, more delicate vines snaking across the ground in intricate curls. _‘Empty vassals have their use, but when wielded by the right hand, desire can be a powerful weapon. You will be that weapon. A scythe upon a field of grain, cutting down that which has had its season.’_

“Weren’t you listening?” Bad snapped, his hands shaking as he took a small step back. “I said I don’t want to help you!”

There was a silence, the writhing vines briefly stilling, and for a moment the world was quiet. A fold of vines parted. A short figure emerged, brilliant red vines woven through raven hair. Bad choked on his own breath. His eyes filled with tears, blurring the sight of the familiar face. He slowly reached out a shaking hand, terrified that the sight before him would vanish, biting back a whimper. “Skeppy?”

And Skeppy stepped closer, taking Bad’s hand in his, tangling their fingers together, looking up with a soft, fond smile. “Hey Baldboyhalo,” he said teasingly, giving Bad’s hand a light squeeze.

A sob broke from Bad’s throat. He pulled Skeppy into a hug, holding his best friend tightly, cling to him as though any second he might turn to dust and blow away. His breath hitched as tears began to pour down his face, weeping into Skeppy’s shoulder. He tried to speak, to say anything, but words dissolved in his mouth, like tears washed away by rain.

“It’s okay,” Skeppy said quietly, running his hand down Bad’s back soothingly, a soft rhythmic comfort. “It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here now.”

“I couldn’t—“ Bad struggled to speak, cutting himself off with a pained whine. “Skeppy, I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t get you out fast enough, and now I can’t bring you back, and all of this is my fault. I should have done more to save you. I should’ve kept you safe,” he said shakily.

Skeppy pulled back, cupping Bad’s cheek in his hand, their eyes meeting. “You did your best,” he said, gently wiping away a tear with his thumb. “I don’t blame you. I could _never_ blame you for this, alright?”

Bad sniffled, resting his own hand over Skeppy’s, leaning into the touch. “I miss you so much it feels like drowning,” he said softly, closing his eyes. “I don’t even know what to do anymore. 'Geppy, all I want is for you to come back.”

Skeppy stepped even closer, his piercing red eyes taking in Bad’s sorrow. “You heard what the others have been saying, right?” he said, his voice low and even. “That if I can’t be cured, I might have to be... killed? That maybe taking one of my lives will cure me. That if it doesn’t work, I might spread the infection, so I’d be too dangerous to let loose. Do you think they’ll really do it?”

“That’s not going to happen,” Bad said quickly, giving Skeppy a protective squeeze. “I would never let any of our friends hurt you, I promise. They’re wrong anyway, we’ll find a way to cure you and bring you back, there _has_ to be some kind of way we could—“

“There isn’t,” Skeppy said plainly, a sad smile on his face. “And you can’t protect me against everyone. Eventually, someone would get past you somehow. Eventually they’d find a way to kill me. But you already know that. You’ve tried everything, haven’t you Bad?”

Bad wiped at his eyes, head hung in guilt. “There has to be something I missed,” he said, a desperate plea. “Some kind of potion or medicine, or something, _anything_. I won’t give up. I can’t lose you.”

“Well, the way things are going know, there’s only really two choices,” Skeppy said solemnly. “You keep trying to find a cure until the others decide its a lost cause. You try to protect me, but you’re outnumbered. They kill me to ensure the vines won’t spread. We could say our goodbyes now if you want,” he offered. “Better to say them now, anyway, while I still recognize you.”

Bad sniffed, wiping his eyes with his free hand, fervently shaking his head. “Skeppy, no! I’m not saying goodbye. I’m not giving up on you!” he said shakily. “Two choices—what’s the other choice? Please, anything is better than just... I can’t say goodbye. I _won’t_. Just tell me what I have to do.”

“Isn't it obvious? The solution is right in front of you," Skeppy said. He smiled, firelight glinting in his eyes. “What was taken away can be given back. The egg can give you whatever you want. You only have to ask.”

Bad froze. “What? No, I... I can’t do that,” he said weakly. “The egg is evil. It did this to you! It gets inside my head, it makes me think horrible things. You can’t mean that,” he begged, his hands starting to shake.

Skeppy’s smile remained, though the affection in his eyes was cold, controlling. “It’s the only other way,” he said, his tone almost playful. “Is giving in really _so_ awful you’d let our 'friends' kill me? I thought you cared more than that.”

Bad whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Don’t say that,” he begged, shaking his head. “You... you aren’t Skeppy. You’re not him, you’re just messing with me, he isn’t here. This isn’t real.”

The ‘Skeppy’ in front of him just smiled, his hand sliding down from Bad’s cheek to his jaw, the touch painfully tender. “He’s been suffering,” ‘Skeppy’ said softly. “He’s in torment, and you’ve barely done more than watch. Your search for a cure is pointless. Nothing you do can restore him to how he once was. Only I decide his fate.”

“Give him back,” Bad said weakly. He wanted to pull away from the gentle touch, but he felt paralyzed by its warmth. “Please. I can’t... I can’t live without him. Just give him back.”

“Then earn him,” ‘Skeppy’ said, coming so close Bad could feel the other’s breath on his skin. “Forfeit your mind. Let your passions serve my purpose. And then, when my goal is achieved, I will fulfill _your_ purpose in turn. I will give back the one you love.”

Bad whimpered, trying to ignore the tremors in his heart. “What... what would you make me do?” he asked.

“Does it matter?” it taunted him, dragging him along with the voice of his friend. “I’ve seen into your mind once before. You would do _anything_ for him. And once you give yourself to me, you will gladly do whatever I need. Do you expect to put a price on his salvation?”

Bad flinched, wishing that he could close his eyes, that he could run, that he could wake up from this infected dream. “I can’t... my friends...”

It laughed, crimson leaves curling in twisted delight. “You’ve said time and time again that you love him more than anyone else. They plan to kill him. They’ve said as much to your face. You may not have given up on finding a cure, but _they_ have. They want his blood to spill. Who are you more loyal to?“

The delicate spiral vines began to climb Bad’s boots, a fragile net of glimmering red leaves. Had it already started to affect him? Burying twisted seeds in his mind, controlling his thoughts and feelings, dragging him in. Had it already taken hold? Or was he really so desperate that he was giving into it, even with his mind not yet under its control?

Did it matter?

“Please,” Bad whispered, his voice soft and heavy with guilt for things he had not yet done. “Please, I just want him back. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

The vines wove up through his clothes, digging into his very skin, burning as they snaked up around his throat. The illusion of Skeppy smiled, but there was no fondness, no compassion or mercy in those blood red eyes. It plucked a flower from the bloodvines in its hair, tucking it behind Bad’s ear. “There you are,” it said, its voice mockingly sweetly. “How rare, to be all but invited into a mind. You will have your reward, all in due time.”

He snapped awake suddenly, as harsh and abrupt as falling into a frozen sea. Bad gasped for breath, his heart pounding, shuddering. He waited for horror or disgust to overwhelm him, that same bitter grief that had always followed the dreams before. It didn’t come. If anything, he felt calm settle over him like a warm blanket, a comforting embrace.

It wasn’t evil to protect someone. It wasn’t evil to seek help. It wasn’t evil to love. He wasn't in the wrong, was he? To be honest, Bad wasn’t even sure those thoughts were still his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He _had_ to do this. He had to protect Skeppy, no matter what price he ended up paying for it.

There would be no cost too great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am only allowed to think about c!dream or eggpire, and today is egg day :)


End file.
